


The Air Near My Fingers

by riyku



Series: Skam Sunday [4]
Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Domestic, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-06 03:47:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11027970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riyku/pseuds/riyku
Summary: "Do it again."  Isak's voice is soft, pitched low, has that quality it gets when something in him is about to break loose.





	The Air Near My Fingers

**Author's Note:**

> one of these days, tebtosca is gonna kick me out. many, many thanks to her, my fairy godmother.
> 
> there's a wee bit of daddy kink wandering around in this, not enough to tag. more of a blink and you'll miss it kinda thing.

"Do it again." Isak's voice is soft, pitched low, has that quality it gets when something in him is about to break loose. When _Even_ is about to break something in him loose.

Isak's been edgy, wound up, bitching about exams and how time seems to be speeding up. Even had retreated to the kitchen when Isak had told him he couldn't study while he was in the same room, had come back and sat down on their bed when Isak had decided he couldn't study with the thought of Even hiding in the kitchen. Then Even had shoved what little furniture they have against the walls because Isak could only think straight when he was sprawled out on his stomach, propped up on his elbows with his laptop and books and notes spread in a wide arc all around him. 

Even understands idiosyncrasies, has constructed his life around his own in small and not-so-small ways, and loves Isak's as much as he loves the rest of him. Every single one of them. So, no music. No television, and when Isak had politely asked Even to try to not breathe quite so loudly, Even had leaned over from the chair he'd pushed into the corner, squeezed Isak's ass and finished it off with an absent smack.

Now Isak is very still. He's stopped his endless paper shuffling and amped-up lip chewing and constant, mumbled mispronunciation of Latin names for things. The air in the room seems to be getting thicker and it's got nothing to do with the joint they smoked an hour ago or the quiet rain tapping against their window.

"Do it again," Isak repeats, and Even can see his thighs clench in those tight fucking jeans he's got on, his hips shifting some against the floor, the small tic in his jaw as he grits his teeth. The tips of his ears are turning the prettiest shade of red, and there's nothing Even wouldn't do to keep Isak safe, happy and whole, so he does what Isak tells him. A light little slap, the second one harder, and Isak drops his head and lifts his hips into the third, a quiet moan muffled against his arm.

"Harder?" Even asks as he slips from the chair and straddles Isak's legs, both hands starfished on Isak's ass, feeling him jump in anticipation. 

"Fuck," Isak says, still talking into his forearm, "Yeah. Yeah. Please."

Even's pulse sounds like thunder and his skin is buzzing over this brand new thing, another secret they share. Something that no one else knows, like the heat of Isak's body when Even is buried up to his balls inside of him, or how Isak can get off so easy on two fingers and a whispered I love you. The things he talks about in his sleep or the shape of his smile when he wakes up and finds Even curled around him, happy to stare, happy to wait. 

Isak bites off a groan when Even smacks him again, another louder one when he lifts Isak up by the hips and puts him on his knees, shoves his shirt up until it's gathered under his arms so he can kiss Isak's lower back, lick up the ridges of his spine, watch the arch of it as he lands another smack. Another, and Isak is slipping a hand down and fumbling with his belt and buttons. A relieved sigh when Even figures it out and peels his pants down to just below the curve of his ass, then flattens his hands on it again, soaks in the warmth of Isak's skin before giving him another slap. 

Skin on skin and this time Isak doesn't hold back, doesn't stifle a full-on moan, tips his ass up and plants his forehead on the floor, spreads his knees as wide as he can. Every thwack pushes Isak a tiny bit further along the rug, scatters the orbit of clutter around him, makes him shiver harder, groan louder. Even is starting to lose track, letting his hand hover longer and longer a fraction above Isak's ass, feeling the heat that radiates off of his skin before landing the next. Now he can trace the red marks his fingers are leaving behind, has to press his mouth to Isak's bright red ass, kiss the heat of it and lick the sting away. 

Even shoves at his pants, lets them puddle around his knees, needs to feel the fever of Isak's skin on his cock. He grabs himself at the base, smudges the tip of his cock against Isak's ass, smears precome all over, the heat of Isak making his heart kick up doubletime. Gravity goes sideways and Isak jumps like he's licked a live wire, turns to glance over his shoulder and Even almost loses it right there. Nothing compares to this, to the flush on Isak's face, the open-mouthed need and the bedrock of absolute trust underneath it all.

Even wonders if there will ever be a time when even the tiniest thing about this kid will not fascinate him, make his entire world come to a staggering, complete halt.

Slowly, Even skates his hand up Isak's damp back, worms it under his t-shirt and grabs his neck, holds him there while he covers Isak's back with his chest, grinds his hips against him, cock sliding through sweat and precome, slipping into the crack of his ass and teasing against his rim. There's a sharp, bitter smell and Isak's shaking a little under him and he thinks maybe Isak just came, and everything in him wants to fuck Isak raw, get inside, fill him up. But he's too fucking close, right on the edge, would blow before he could get Isak good and ready to take it and he forces himself back, cock slapping against Isak's flesh as he jerks himself with a rough, stuttering fist.

"C'mon, Daddy. Do me again," Isak says, turned once more to look at Even and that's it. The goddamn ace Isak keeps shoved up his sleeve. The trick shot into the corner pocket and Even thwacks him one more time for keeps, blows a second later, streaks Isak's ass, creamy white bright against deep, heart-colored red.

"You fucking cheated," Even tells him, breathless and running his fingers through the mess on Isak's skin, rubbing it in. "Not fair."

"Shit," Isak says, as he falls to his side and reaches out to Even with both arms. "I think I came all over my fucking biology notes. That's what's not fair."

Tomorrow Isak will sit in school in those hard, strict chairs, squirm and try to find a way to ease the ache. He'll hiss in a quiet breath and think of Even. Maybe he'll smile and forget about the four he might be getting in Norwegian for a few short seconds. Hopefully he'll smile.

\--end

thanks for reading!


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